His Grandfather's Watch
by NDF-hw04
Summary: Gibbs. A story in five (short) parts. Spoilers for Season 12.


The screen door was swinging shut as Jethro strode into the house after school. He sensed the hush in the house and caught the door before it could slam. (Why hadn't his dad found time to replace that spring yet?) The living room was dark and the former guest bedroom door was pulled to. Jethro silently slid his backpack off his shoulder and onto the couch and slowly made his way to the daunting door. He widened the crack a few inches and tilted his head to peek into the room.

"Been waiting for you. Quit trying to be so sneaky."

"Mom, the word is stealthy. I'm just practicing."

"Uh huh. Come in. I need to talk to you."

At those words, stomach tightening, Jethro strained even more to see into the dim room. Lying in bed with her arms above the covers, she looked about the same as she had when he'd left this morning, he thought. He took a breath and opened the door just far enough so he could enter the room.

"It's in the top drawer. Turn on the lamp so you can see. It's wrapped in a towel."

Jethro pulled open the drawer and lifted out the bundle. He thought he knew what was inside but held it without opening it, waiting for his mother's explanation.

"He wanted you to have it, when you were old enough. So it's yours now. Just happened to be thinking about it today."

Jethro thought about what neither of them would say, the reason he had become 'old enough' now. He sat sideways at the bottom of the bed and carefully folded back the towel from its contents. The crystal of his grandfather's railroad watch reflected the lamplight, so Jethro carefully, reverently, lifted it from its bedding to look at the face.

"You'll need to wind it and see if it works. It might need cleaning or repairing if you decide to carry it around."

Jethro heard the words, filing them away, but continued to stare at the watch and finger the braided strap. He could taste the ginger snaps his grandfather would offer, could remember the texture of the wooden kitchen table they'd sit at while they talked. He wished he'd had more time, heard more of the stories his grandfather must have had.

"Thanks, Mom," he said.

* * *

><p>Gibbs walked through the front door of his house and tossed his keys at the entryway table. Then he secured his gun in its safe. He listened to the sounds of the house. It was a game he'd made with himself to figure out where in the house his wife was before he saw her. He heard the rattling sound of rollers and the soft bang of wood bumping on wood that came from a dresser drawer being closed. Gibbs headed upstairs to the bedroom. He walked into the room to find his bottom dresser drawer open, Diane in front of it, looking at what she'd just lifted from it.<p>

Diane had heard him coming up the stairs. She turned and asked, "Where did you get this? It's a railroad watch."

"Yeah. My grandfather's."

"You should replace the strap with a gold chain. Then you could wear it with your suit."

Gibbs held out his hand. "No. Here," he said.

"I'm just saying..."

"No, Diane."

His hand was still out, but now he wasn't even looking at her. Diane had stumbled onto another of his locked rooms. She stood there a moment, looking him over, but could not come up with words that would provide a key. His locks were too secure. Finally, she gave him the watch and left.

After Diane left, Gibbs sat on the bed and fingered the strap. One of his grandfather's favorite stories to tell young Jethro was how Jethro's mother had been the one who picked out that strap for the watch. She had thought it would be sturdier and more practical than a fancy chain.

Jethro hadn't carried the watch after his mother gave it to him. He had kept it in a drawer, still wrapped in the towel. Occasionally, he would take the watch out, wind it, and sit and listen to it as he knew his mother and his grandfather had before him. Today, though, he simply sat and held the watch, looking at the stopped hands. He hadn't wound the watch in a long time. The room began to grow dark and Gibbs wrapped the towel around the watch and slipped it back into the drawer. He stood up and headed downstairs. The basement was waiting for him.

* * *

><p>Gibbs was tired, his steps slow, as he entered the darkened, quiet house. He sank into the couch, belatedly pulling off his gun. He got up from the couch, sighing, and secured the weapon in the gun safe. Diane's voice sounded in his head, "You relate better to guns than to people."<p>

Gibbs retook his seat on the couch and stared at the empty fireplace. He had been reminded of her today. Tobias announced he was planning on marrying her. "Sour grapes, Jethro," Tobias had said when Gibbs had tried to tell him what being married to Diane had been like. Then later, "We all learn from the experiences that make up our lives."

Gibbs had learned about Diane, more from the divorce than from the marriage. The emptied bank account was annoying. Something else had been more infuriating, though. After Diane had moved out, Gibbs had taken to racking out on the couch and leaving his clothing piled on the dryer or hanging on the rod in the laundry room. Then after a week of extremely long days and some nights spent at work, Gibbs had gone in search of any clothing left upstairs in the hopes of avoiding laundry chores for a couple more days. He'd pulled some serviceable shirts and pants from the closet. When he opened the bottom dresser in a search for socks, he sensed something was wrong there. After a moment of staring, he noticed the limp towel nestled among his socks and his gut tightened. He felt all around in the drawer and when his hand failed to touch anything firmer than cotton, he began removing the contents individually until he had an empty drawer and confirmation of his gut. His grandfather's railroad watch was gone.

Then, Gibbs had slammed the drawer shut and loudly cursed Diane's name. He'd gathered up the clothing he'd found and carried it downstairs, where he dumped it on top of the dryer. The house was too quiet. He shrugged off his sport coat and grabbed the work coat hanging on the nail. The basement would not suffice tonight. Outside, he strode to the woodpile, picked up the ax, and began splitting wood until the deepening twilight made it impossible to see.

Now, Gibbs leaned his head against the back of the couch and cursed Diane's name once again, softly. Tobias would have to experience what being married to Diane was like for himself. Gibbs was too tired to go to the basement tonight, so he continued to sit on the couch in the quiet house as the darkness grew around him.

* * *

><p>Gibbs entered his house, happy to still have some weekend time left. The bad guys had been caught. The case was over, at least for the team and for Gibbs. He was too keyed up to watch television or read a book. He decided to continue the work of getting his house into better shape. He bounded down the basement stairs. The new coat of paint had dried on his screen door. Now he could attach a new screen.<p>

Familiar footsteps in high heels sounded from above. Diane. Apparently, he'd been wrong with what he'd told Fornell and he did have to talk to her again. She made her way slowly down the stairs to the basement. Diane had avoided the basement when they were married and now she had visited it twice in as many days. The two of them talked for a few minutes. They told each other some truths and avoided sniping at each other. It was clear they had both changed since their marriage. Then Diane reached up and touched the side of his face. Gibbs looked at her, puzzled. She took his hand, opened it palm up, and placed something in it. He looked down. It was his grandfather's railroad watch. She leaned toward him and said, "You were my Shannon, Leroy," then turned and went quickly up the stairs.

Gibbs took the watch in his other hand. He fingered the old braided strap and looked at the clock face and smiled. Diane had given him back a part of his past, one that he had thought was gone forever. Gibbs carefully wound the watch and listened to it for a while. The crystal reflected the light from the basement's light fixture, so he tilted the watch to see it better and watched the minute hand click forward. Well-meaning people had told him that time heals all wounds, which Gibbs had not found to be true so far. 'Time marches on' was an adage he had much more faith in, but there were moments when he felt such a link to previous events that even that adage didn't seem true. The past had a way of coming back for him. Perhaps, time had healed some of the wounds he and Diane had given each other. After placing the watch in a safe spot on the workbench, Gibbs went back to work on the screen door. He was looking forward to spring this year.

* * *

><p>Gibbs heard his front door open and then close. After a few moments, Fornell's footsteps sounded on the basement stairs. "Jethro, my daughter has a railroad watch," the man told him.<p>

Gibbs grunted and looked up from his project. "Yep. Gave it to her last night."

"Why?"

"Last night was movie night, so she was here."

"I know she was here last night. I'm the one who dropped her off. I'm asking why you gave it to her, not why she got it last night. Stop avoiding the question." Tobias was getting frustrated.

One side of Gibbs' mouth twitched and he shrugged. "Eh. Who else am I going to give it to? It just seemed like a good time."

Tobias shook his head. "She's fourteen. That's a little young, don't you think?"

Gibbs looked at his hands. "That's about how old I was when I got it."

Tobias stared at him for a moment then rubbed his hand over his face. "Your mom passed it on to you from your grandpa."

Gibbs nodded.

"Did you and Emily talk about that? About your mom?" Tobias' voice trailed off.

Gibbs shook his head. "Nah." Then he took pity on Tobias and explained. "Emily already knows. She knows I've been there. So we can just go on doing the stuff we want to do, spending time together, without feeling like we have to talk about it. Sometimes it's nice to know there's someone you don't have to talk about it with, someone who's not going to be worried about having you around 'cause they won't know what to say."

Fornell just looked at Gibbs for a moment while he processed that information. "Well, thanks for making movie night a more regular thing."

Gibbs smiled. "Emily has good taste in movies."

"And it gets you out of your basement," Fornell added. He looked around. "So, back to the boat? Thought you wanted to get the furniture done first."

"Yeah. It'll get done. Just needed to work on the boat for a while."

"You know, a railroad watch takes up a lot less room as a memento than a boat."

"Yeah. That's why I gave it to Emily," Gibbs told him, then added, "If you or Emily need to talk, I'm here."

"Yeah, but if we don't want to, you're here, too. I never thought of it that way before, but I get it." Fornell walked up the stairs, calling back down, "Thanks, Jethro."

Gibbs smiled and continued sanding the _Chickadee_.


End file.
